A Hero'll Save Me (Just in Time)
by ahunter8056
Summary: Four women going about their ordinary, separate, lives, are plucked from Earth and held prisoner by aliens. Rescued by a strange humanoid alien with a bow-tie, these four women are offered the chance to join him in travelling the universe throughout all of time and space. Experiencing brand new cultures, exploring alien worlds, saving innocents, they realise that there is far more
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story was originally published on Archive of Our Own

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The sun shone outside, another beautiful day in North Carolina. The view from the gym's windows was stunning, warm sunlight streaming through the large windows. Not that the heat bothered the gym's inhabitants. The AC certainly took care of them in that regard, allowing them to work out in the sweltering heat without overheating.

"Excellent, we're making good progress Mrs. Fanene," the blonde spoke warmly to her client, ending their scheduled session.

The plus-sized woman grunted as she put down her weights, before turning to her personal trainer with an amused smile before pouting and rolling her eyes in faux annoyance. "Come on Charlotte, we're friends, you don't need to speak to me so formally."

Charlotte Flair smiled back; they'd had this exact conversation many times over the past few weeks, and she expected it to be repeated more times in the future. "As you are well aware by now, I am a professional. I treat all of my clients equally." Charlotte looked around to ensure none of her other clients or employees were nearby before leaning an inch closer to her client. "But now that our weekly session is over Nia, I'll see you and Alexa this weekend."

"I'll see you later girl," Nia responded in a purposefully slightly higher-pitched tone than her regular speaking voice, adding in a wink for comic effect, one of the many endearing qualities of the large woman's personality.

A quiet chuckle escaped from Charlotte's lips as she watched her client- no, friend - leave. She smoothed her tank top and leggings to double check she still looked presentable, ran a hand to smooth her long blonde hair, before walking out of the room and down the hallway, in the direction of the gym's receptionist.

Approaching the desk, she took note of the receptionist's immaculate clothing, her hair swept back in a perfect bun, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose without a hint of being askew. Charlotte took pride in this. Even her employees projected a professional image. Combined with her professional yet kind attitude to her clients, her gym had a strong reputation for professionalism.

"Hey Dana, has my next client arrived yet?" the tall blonde asked the shorter blonde seated behind the computer. Though Charlotte insisted on a strictly professional attitude when dealing with her clients and while in the proximity of gymgoers, she maintained a much looser attitude when speaking privately to her employees.

The receptionist took a second to smooth out her already meticulous blouse before answering the query. "No Mrs. Flair, though Mr. Dansereau isn't scheduled until 4:15."

Charlotte briefly glanced at the clock, realising that she had approximately ten minutes to spare. Looking back toward Dana, she realised that she had to try, yet again, to put the nervous receptionist at ease.

"Please Dana, I don't know how many times I have to ask you this, but call me Charlotte. I may be your boss, but I'm still just an ordinary person. By all means, refer to me as 'Mrs. Flair' if a client is around, but if it's just you and me, we're just two women talking." Finishing her plea, Charlotte made sure to shoot a reassuring smile as the exclamation point. She hoped that would be enough to finally allow the younger woman to relax.

"Sorry Mrs. Flai- I mean, Charlotte. I guess I just get anxious when talking to people in authority." Dana responded while looking down, a nervous tick Charlotte often observed while having this conversation.

"Yeah, I get that," Charlotte spoke with understanding, empathising with the young, eager receptionist, trying her hardest to relate to her. "Look, I might sign your cheques, but believe it or not, I was an employee once too. And that experience taught me how NOT to treat your employees." Charlotte shuddered at the brief memory, before mentally shoving it back to where it usually lay dormant and looking back up at Dana Brooke. "The point is, the clients love you. I wouldn't be able to run this place without you. So unless you screw up repeatedly in a major way, you don't have anything to worry about. Okay?" Charlotte's lips curved upward one more time to ensure her point was made, pearly white teeth on show, smile as radiant as the sun outside.

Dana finally seemed to get the message. "Thank you Charlotte, I'll try to be more relaxed." In an effort to physically communicate this, Dana let her shoulders relax, her posture immediately appearing looser.

"Glad to hear it," Charlotte couldn't help but grin at the satisfaction of finally getting through to the apprehensive receptionist. "I'm going to head to my office, could you give me a buzz when Mr. Dansereau arrives?"

"Sure thing…Charlotte," Dana replied with a momentary pause, evidently still getting used to the new sense of informality between employer and employee.

Turning around to hide her grin at the unintentional humour, the tall blonde walked towards her office. Perhaps she could use these scant few minutes remaining to finally down some coffee to get her through her last few clients.

Turning the door handle, Charlotte entered her immaculate looking office and sat down in her perfectly adjusted office chair. The room looked pristine, not a speck of dirt or dust in sight. She didn't hire a cleaner for this; she routinely polished the room herself. After all, why waste money hiring someone else to do it when she was perfectly capable of performing the task herself? Charlotte firmly believed in making a good impression on her clients, whether it be their first or tenth impression. To this end, she always ensured that her office be kept spotless. Of course this meant that every working day began hours before the gym opened, but she was okay with sacrificing personal enjoyment for professional success. Some of her personal friends jokingly accused Charlotte of being excessively anal when it came to her work life, but deep down, she knew they were speaking the truth. She was indeed meticulous, and proud of it.

But lately, she couldn't deny that she had been wondering if it had all been worth it. Whether she was right to have fully devoted herself to her career, instead of getting out there and being more relaxed in her life. For so many years now, perhaps for the thirty-three years she'd been alive, she'd been so uptight, doing whatever it took to ensure that her gym ran perfectly, like clockwork. Skipping out on family events, social gathering, sacrificing hours of sleep and personal enjoyment, doing whatever it took. Had it all been worth it? That was something that Charlotte Flair was still contemplating, and she suspected she was likely to keep pondering over it for some time.

Closing her eyes, she supposed she had time to shut her eyes for a minute or two. She didn't notice as a vivid blue beam of light shone down through her ceiling and wrapped around her body. As she quickly fell asleep, she didn't realise that when she woke up, she would no longer be inside her office. Indeed, she would no longer even be on Earth.

"Mrs. Flair? Mr. Dansereau is here for his appointment," Dana Brooke's business-like tone buzzed through the intercom. "Mrs. Flair?" No response. "Mrs. Flair?" She tried again, only to be met with a cold silence. The only reminder of her boss' previous presence in her office was the desk chair, swivelling from the jolt created by the teleportation of Charlotte Flair.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come in," the warm voice from inside the small office called out in response to the hesitant knock.

The door slowly opened to reveal the apprehensive teenage girl, her eyes darting around the room before settling on the desk, the shining desk label reading "Guidance Counsellor". Lifting her head, she nervously looked into the sparkling, compassionate eyes of the high school's revered guidance counsellor, Ms. Martinez. The brunette woman, newly turned thirty, always wore her hair in a side ponytail. Some of the students mocked this particular quirk behind her back: a fact she was well aware of, but that never bothered her. Even the school's most diabolical bullies would never dare openly mock the level-headed Latina, whose presence radiated an aura of compliance.

"Ah, Candice! What can I do for you, Miss LeRae?" the benevolent woman greeted warmly, gesturing to the adjacent couch.

The distressed teenager took a seat and began to explain her situation. Bayley Martinez listened eagerly and attentively, as she always did.

Bayley Martinez was the resident guidance counsellor at the San Jose High School. All of her life, even as a child, she'd wanted to help fix other people's problems. Throughout her adolescence and into adulthood, she always stepped in to mediate any conflict that arose in her vicinity, whether she was asked to or not. If someone she knew had a problem in their life, she'd do whatever it took to come up with a solution. Many people mistook her bubbly personality and affable demeanour for weakness; a target to pick on. Those who made that mistake seldom did so again. Despite Bayley's tendency to see the good in everyone, she had no qualms about defending herself if push came to shove, though she'd always try to calm the situation before it came to that.

Bayley saw puberty as a particularly vulnerable time in anyone's life. It was for this reason that she applied her talents for helping others to high school. She'd certainly have a much easier job if she had taken a job at a kindergarten level. But easy was not the path which Bayley Martinez tread. She revelled in the pure satisfaction of knowing she had guided others towards whatever they needed. Especially young minds, who were often innocent and sorely in need of help, whether it be guidance in regards to their future, academic success, or even disciplinary measures in the case of bullying. That last one tended to be the most unpleasant for Bayley to deal with. She knew from her own experiences how painfully misguided teenagers could lash out, particularly at those most vulnerable.

Unfortunately, today was one of those situations. Candice finished describing her altercation with the school's resident bully, Shayna Baszler. Bayley had already had similar conversations with more than a couple of girls targeted by the troubled teen. None of them seemed to have dared to take her advice and stand up to her. She was determined to advise Candice to make a difference. Especially given that Candice shared a similarly amicable personality, and at the minute was showing no traces of her usual demeanour, just like the others. Poor Io, the foreign exchange student, had reacted to Shayna's bullying by beginning to lash out at others. She couldn't allow Shayna to take Candice's happiness away from her.

"Candice, do you know why Shayna picks on you?" the guidance counsellor asked, eager to reveal the answer to the question put forth.

"Because I'm an easy target?" the despondent teen answered matter-of-factly with crossed arms, without an iota of mirth.

Bayley's heart cracked at the clear effect the bully had had on poor Candice, turning her neutral expression into a frown. "That may be, but that's because you didn't stand up for yourself."

"Miss Martinez, I know what you're asking me to do, but I can't-" Candice began to protest, before silencing herself at the sight of Bayley holding the palm of her hand up.

"Shayna targets those who she doesn't think have a chance of fighting back." Candice began to open her mouth to protest once again, but Bayley quickly spoke in answer to the non-verbalised response. "No, I don't mean physically. Not necessarily, at least. I mean, she gets pleasure from feeling power, which you gave her by not standing up to her."

The teenager opened her mouth in shock. "Are you saying it's my fault I got picked on?"

"God no, Candice, that's not what I'm saying." Bayley pinched the bridge of her nose, realising her poor choice of words, internally cursing herself for mishandling the situation. "What I'm saying is that Shayna wants to upset you, and she'll say anything to make it happen. So don't give her the satisfaction." Bayley curved her lips into a slight smile, in an attempt to reassure the hesitant teen, who she saw began to relax her posture at the advice. The smile faded as she opened her mouth to speak again, needing to deliver a serious tone with her next piece of advice. "No matter how much her words might hurt, or how threatening she might sound, don't ever let her see you rattled." Leaving her words to sink in for a few seconds, Bayley leaned forward with a mischievous grin on her face. "And if that doesn't work, sometimes you've just gotta fight fire with fire."

Bayley's mischievous attempt to reassure the blonde girl clearly did not have the desired effect. The seemingly permanent frown etched on her face showed no signs of fading as she grumpily said "Easy for you to say."

Bayley sucked in air as she gasped quietly at the teenager's resistance. The same teenager who regularly confided in Bayley and listened to her advice on any given topic. Bayley leaned back and settled her face back into a compassionate expression, having realised where she had been going wrong.

"You're right, it is easy for me to say. But I only know how to handle it because I've been exactly where you are now."

The teen raised her eyebrow and cocked her head to the side in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course I have," Bayley chucked, relived to finally be getting through to the girl. "I would never be able to accurately count the amount of confrontations I got into when I was your age. And those are just the ones that directly concerned me. It would be impossible to even begin to compile a list of girls who saw me as an easy target." Bayley paused to gather her thoughts, and allow time for the young impressionable girl to take the information in. "I've had a lot of deeply hurtful things said to me over the course of my life. And yeah, there were times I let them get to me. But I never let it show." Bayley shrugged her shoulders. "And if they were intent on physically harming me, I just had to fight back. Win or lose, at least I knew that I didn't back down."

"Aren't school staff supposed to discourage us from getting into fights?" Candice asked with an impish hint of a grin on her face, her mood lifted from the perpetual despair that had plagued her all afternoon long.

Bayley returned the grin with glee, her eyes shining with mischief. "Of course. But sometimes there's no other choice. By all means, try anything to avoid it if you can. But if you can't reason with them, there's no shame in defending yourself. The point is Candice LeRae: never back down." The brunette emphasised her last point, shaking her finger vertically, her fingertip pointed towards the ceiling, each shake punctuating each word.

Bayley didn't know if her words had really spoke to Candice, or whether she had taken humour in the adult's absurd hand gestures, but the teen's normally radiant smile finally returned. The girl giggled before uncrossing her arms and leaning forward to wrap her arms around the guidance counsellor in a warm hug. While to some this behaviour might be seen as odd, Bayley was more than just a guidance counsellor; many of the young girls saw her as a parental figure, thanks in large part to the brunette's genuine interest and investment in their lives and their futures.

Bayley couldn't wipe the beaming smile off her face even if she wanted to. She was genuinely overjoyed at the overwhelmingly positive effect she'd had on the young student. Not to mention the fact that she was usually the one to give out hugs; it was a nice refreshing change of pace to be the receiver. It was at that moment that the school bell rung.

"Well, it's time you got going. Good luck, and just remember what I said," Bayley said to Candice, an understanding expression on her face.

Candice picked up her backpack and shrugged it on her shoulders before turning to face the guidance counsellor, a smile still on her face. The smile that Bayley had come to expect from the high-spirited girl, who's happiness seemed to have been restored. "I will. Thank you Miss Martinez."

Bayley watched the girl leave, before turning around with a joyous chuckle. Glancing at the clock and seeing that the school day had come to an end, the brunette began to gather her things. Distracted by this task, she did not notice the electric blue vortex of light shine down through the ceiling, wrapping itself around her body. Bayley blinked, and when she opened her eyes a millisecond later, she'd soon discover that she was no longer in her office; in fact she would no longer be on earth.


	3. Chapter 3

The doors to the hotel lobby glided open, allowing the slender young woman to step through, her electric blue hair swaying around her face, the smile on her face so radiant that it threatened to envelop the bright ceiling lights. Her footsteps thudded softly as she strode down the polished marble floor, a pep in her step that had never left during the duration of her stay. Sasha Banks was thoroughly enjoying her trip to Tokyo, Japan.

As a blogger who loved to travel and document her adventures, Sasha relished the chance to experience other cultures. Her heart found a specific fondness for Asian cultures. Japanese, Korean, she just adored this part of the world. That was the reason she adored her job so much; it gave her the opportunity to experience what she loved, provided she recount her experiences online. That was a very small price to pay for the euphoria she was rewarded with in the process.

Throughout the entirety of her life, even since she was small, Sasha Banks had desperately desired to get out there and see the world. Unfortunately that dream hadn't been possible at the time as a child, but now as an adult, she took full privilege in the capability she now had.

Her blog didn't bring in enough income to fully supplement these trips, however. In the time she spent in the city she called home, she worked at a dog shelter. As far as Sasha was concerned, she just loved life. Across both of her jobs, she indulged in her biggest passions. Travelling to experience the wonders of the world, and playing with as many of the fluffy animals as her heart could take without bursting with joy. She knew she wasn't supposed to play favourites, but her heart always swelled with more elation than she felt possible whenever she spent time around one of the shelter's residents, a Corgi named Ryu.

Sure, she didn't mind spending time at her home of Boston, Massachusetts (especially when it came to her days among her four-legged friends), but the rest of the world had so much out there. So many more sights to see, so much more to experience. Staying in one place without ever leaving would not satisfy her adventurous spirit. Days at a time she could cope with, but months? Forget about it; she'd go stir crazy. Fortunately for Sasha, her employer, Summer Rae, was also one of her closest friends, allowing Sasha unprecedented flexibility.

Although her itinerary for the trip included a vast array of Japanese culture, she particularly relished the opportunity to indulge in two of her favourite forms of entertainment: anime and K-pop. The previous day, she'd been given a tour of the Toei Animation headquarters, home to many of her favourite anime, including one of her particular favourites: Sailor Moon. But as interesting and captivating as she'd found that experience, it was surpassed by the live musical performance she was returning from: a concert for one of her favourite bands: Big Bang.

As she pressed the button to call the elevator, and took a moment to adjust her glasses, Sasha noticed how wide she was smiling in the reflective surface. A wide open-mouthed grin showing off her white pearly teeth. She couldn't hide the smile even if she wanted to. Her heart was filled to the brim with pure elation. It was weeks like these that reminded her why she never thought of these sojourns as business trips, but more like vacations. When most people thought of a "business trip", they probably visualised walking around in a suit, spending hours in meetings with a translator on hand. Not Sasha. Instead they consisted of her living her life to the fullest, appreciating every brand new experience.

The elevator doors pinged open. Sasha hesitated before seeing if the room had an occupant, which it did. Fortunately for her, it was someone she was familiar with.

"Sasha!" the Japanese woman exclaimed excitedly.

"Asuka!" Sasha couldn't help but beam back at bumping into one of the friends she'd made across her travels.

An accomplished martial artist, the undefeated "Empress of Tomorrow" had been interviewed by Sasha a few times over the years, and the two women had quickly developed a friendship. Every time Sasha ventured to Japan, Asuka Urai would always make time for Sasha, whether strictly business or for social reasons. It was a working relationship that proved very beneficial for Sasha, with Asuka capable of opening doors which would be otherwise closed. And furthermore, as a native of Japan, Asuka offered plenty of helpful advice for her American friend.

The two friends shared a brief hug before parting. "You didn't tell me you were staying here!" Sasha stated, her tone filled with warmth.

Asuka paused to gather her thoughts before responding. "You, not, tell me, you here, either," she replied in broken English. Sasha couldn't help but beam at the progress Asuka was making. One of the many facets of their friendship was that Sasha helped Asuka out with her English, with Sasha more than happy to repay Asuka back for the unprecedented access she'd afforded her. With the success Asuka had experienced in her career, international eyes had begun to look in her direction, and an English-speaking capability would help greatly. Just as Asuka had helped Sasha's career, Sasha had in return helped Asuka's.

"I'm in town for a couple more days, we should hang out," Sasha suggested, eager to spend time with her older friend before heading back to familiar shores.

Asuka's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "I give you call?"

Sasha chuckled with happiness. "Can't wait!"

The two friends bid each other goodnight as Asuka departed for her destination, and Sasha stepped inside the elevator. She pressed the button for her floor, the elevator doors sliding shut as the capsule began to ascend. The young woman sighed with pure contentment. Growing up, she'd never dreamed that she could feel so fulfilled. Though admittedly, she was starting to run out of new things to experience. By this point, she'd travelled to almost every country in the world. The few she hadn't, was more out of choice for her personal safety. Each country she'd been to, she'd filled her time trying everything on offer. She only wished there was more to explore. Uncharted territory, places brand new to her eyes.

This didn't exactly negate the experiences she did have. Far from it. This particular trip to Tokyo was perhaps her favourite vacation to date.

As much fun as she'd had thought, she was truly exhausted. So exhausted in fact, that when she closed her eyes for a few seconds, the subtle motion of the elevator allowed her to begin to drift off to sleep standing up. In her semi-conscious state, her mind didn't register the blue beam of light, its colour not too far off from her hair, shoot through the ceiling and envelop her body inside the elevator. When the elevator reached her floor, the doors pinged open to reveal nobody inside. Sasha Banks was no longer in the elevator, the hotel, or even on this earth.p


	4. Chapter 4

The ginger woman gasped as the fires began to surround her, the heat beginning to cause her skin to glisten with sweat. Seeing no other option, she stood firmly before breaking into a sprint down the hotel corridor, her shoes thudding loudly against the carpet. Raising her arms to protect her face, she leapt through the air and dove through the glass window, the dangerous surface shattering into hundreds of fragments upon impact. Her trajectory carried her over to the following rooftop. She landed safely on her feet, her momentum causing her to curl herself into a ball before rolling forward.

She couldn't help but allow a grin of relief to spread across her face, her quick breathing causing her breath to puff the strands of orange hair across her eyeline like a pendulum. Against all odds, she'd survived the deadly assassination attempt. They'd blown up the entire hotel just to try to claim her life. But she had defied them, her survival instincts kicking in. As pleased as she was with her own quick thinking, and grateful for the continued ability to breathe unhindered, she had to keep moving. She couldn't stop and rest, even for a second. Her enemies would soon discover that she had survived. They would look for her, but they wouldn't find her. Not if she could help it.

"And, CUT!" the director bellowed to the film crew, his Irish lilt coming through his voice. The redhead rose from her position, a slight smile emerging from the satisfaction with her performance. And with that, the production had come to an end. The past six months of filming had been trying, but it had all finally come to an end, and the actor/stuntwoman could relax.

The director clapped her on the back as the rest of the crew began to frantically rush around them. "Fantastic job Becks! It came out great in the rushes, and it'll look breath-taking after post."

"It sounds like you're trying to butter me up, Finn," Becky smirked at her close friend.

Finn Balor laughed as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "No no lass, I'm just acknowledging a job done exceptionally well. Every glass ceiling we have, you shatter it. Or in this case, a glass window."

The two friends shared a laugh at the obvious joke. "It did look good, didn't it?" Becky asked for reassurance, cocking her eyebrow and angling her head ever so slightly to the side. She took immense pride in her work. The Irish woman desperately desired to be acknowledged as the best in the industry, and the only way to do that was through hard work. If something didn't look right in her performance, she needed to know.

Finn smiled in response. "Just as we planned."

With the reassurance, Becky exhaled a sigh of relief. She always put pressure on herself to deliver, to warrant the reputation she'd carved out for herself. She was happy to report that she did almost every time, and this was another occurrence.

"You'll be coming to the wrap party tonight, yeah?" the bearded man asked Becky as she started to shrug on her leather jacket.

"The opportunity to get hammered and spread more of my hilarious jokes?" Becky gasped in faux offense at the notion that she would consider giving it a miss. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Come on Becks, your jokes aren't that good," Finn said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Both of them knew that his statement didn't have a hint of sincerity in it.

Becky visibly flinched and gasped loudly for comic effect. "How dare you; my jokes are hilarious! An' what kind of a party would it be if it didn't have puns?"

"A better one?" Finn teased, his grin growing wider the more exaggerated Becky's faux offense became.

Much to Finn's surprise, Becky actually stopped her mocked outrage. She stood there, hands trembling, her bottom lip wobbling, seamlessly transitioning to genuine-looking upset. Tears began to roll down her cheek, and Finn instantly began to console her. He did tease her a lot, perhaps their banter sometimes got to her more than she let on.

"Lass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I…just…" Becky began, trying her best to communicate effectively through the sobs beginning to wrack her body. Finn grew even more perplexed as she began to rifle through her jacket pocket. Finn watched her hand, growing even more confused by the second. To his bewilderment, Becky's hand dragged out of her pocket to reveal an orange. Following the movement of her hand as she raised it to her face, his eyes tracked up to see Becky flashing him a mischievous grin, the only hint left of her crying being the wet lines running down from her eyes.

"Orange you glad I'm such a good actor?" Becky burst into laughter. No matter how many times she tricked her friend into stumbling into a joke, he never seemed to learn.

"Fer feck sake lass!" Finn found it impossible to be mad at Becky for her deception, joining in the laughter with a chuckle. "Do you seriously just carry around an orange just to make puns?"

"That, and they're a good source of citrus," Becky deadpanned. She tossed the orange to Balor, who caught it effortlessly.

"Tricks like that will get you uninvited to the wrap party," Finn warned with as much seriousness as he could muster. Unfortunately for him, there was a reason he was a director and not an actor.

"Oh come on," Becky protested, walking over towards an inanimate prop. "We're gonna have a whale of a time!" she punned, wildly gesturing to the animatronic whale head prop which had been used in a scene earlier that day.

Their time was cut short as a runner called Finn's attention. "I'd better get going," he said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb while smiling bittersweetly; the two close friends enjoyed each other's company so much it was always a shame when they were forced to part. Even so, both were dedicated to their respective jobs and relished throwing themselves into their work. If that dedication meant cutting socialising time short, then so be it. "I'll see you tonight at 8?"

"Of course Finny boy, as long as you're still awake that is?" she said, poking fun at Finn's dedication to his career often coming at the cost of sleep.

"Ah you know me, I'm an extra-ordinary man who does extraordinary things," Finn grinned.

"You certainly are extra," Becky shot back in jest, bouncing her eyebrows, Finn unable to stifle a laugh at the clear hypocrisy on display.

The two friends said their goodbyes before Finn headed back to set, and Becky clambered astride her motorbike, speeding from the filming location in the direction of her apartment in Orlando.

As she zipped down the roads which led to her destination, Becky reflected on her journey to get to where she was today.

From the moment she had learned how to walk, going back to her upbringing in Dublin, Ireland, Becky had been a daredevil. Whether she was practising parkour or driving off ramps on her bike during her childhood and teen years, Becky had risked her physical health for the sheer thrill of it. To her, there was nothing more exciting and exhilarating than the pure adrenaline generated from putting her body on the line for a calculated risk. It was this addiction to thrill-seeking that had drawn her to a career as a stuntwoman. Climbing up the ranks of the television and film industries, the fiery-haired Irish woman had dazzled casts and crews around the world with her precisely calculated stunts always resulting in fantastical results. Whether they needed her to act as a body double in a spectacular character action, or to add to the carnage as an extra, Becky Lynch was a name that could always be relied upon to deliver.

Before long, Becky's magnetic personality drew the eye of a fellow Irishman, the acclaimed director Finn Balor. Seeing more potential in her beside risking her physical health, Finn had pushed her to try out as an actor. As he'd expected, Becky had taken to her new role with flying colours. Today, Becky was regularly cast in increasingly important roles, always insisting on performing all of her own stunts. While this combination of roles somewhat reduced the risk to her physical health, it still allowed her to fulfil her adrenaline-junky needs.

As she continued to reminisce, Becky approached her apartment's empty parking area. She slowed to a stop before turning the key, the sound of her bike's engine fading to silence. Remaining seated, the Irishwoman sighed peacefully, with just a hint of wistfulness. Truth be told, she thoroughly enjoyed her life. She was content – mostly. While she was lucky enough to enjoy a steady stream of work in a job she was thrilled to do, work that she was proud of accomplishing to a high standard, she couldn't help but think that perhaps she wanted just a little bit more physical risk to fulfil her adrenaline-based needs. Sporadic stunt work was all well and good, but that was the trouble with having genuine friends in her line of work. They looked out for her physical wellbeing, to the point of putting their foot down when she refused to, steadily cutting down her stunts to preserve her health.

Becky chuckled softly to herself at this thought. She did recognise how lucky she was to have genuine friends looking out for her, even if it meant saving her from herself.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Becky rolled up the sleeve of her leather jacket, checking her watch. A smile crossed her face as she realised she had time to get in a couple hours nap before she had to think about getting ready for the wrap party later that night.

Her pupils still focused on the clock hands of the watch, Becky paid no attention to the dazzling electric blue light shining down from the sky, engulfing her body, before it zapped out of sight. When the flash of light dispersed, Becky was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, Becky Lynch was no longer on the planet. Like a good few characters she'd played over the years, Becky appeared to have been abducted by aliens. Unless she found a way home soon, she was going to miss her wrap party.


	5. Chapter 5

If she didn't know better, Charlotte would think someone was drilling into her skull. At least, that's what the persistent headache felt like. As though someone had trapped her head in a vice, taken the construction tool, and activated it, the sharp metal twisting and turning as it burrowed into the deep inner reaches of her brain.

The air felt much cooler than she was used to, not to mention the faint constant hum in the background: a hum like that of a car engine. Where was she? Even with her eyes shut, Charlotte could tell that her current environment was nothing like her gym.

Her gym! That was it! The last thing she remembered was sitting back and closing her eyes in her office back at her gym. So how did she get here, wherever here was? Had someone broken into her office and kidnapped her? Was this a dream? And if it was the former, would her clients sever their business relationship due to her unplanned absence?

No, it was no use thinking like that. First things first, she had to find out what had happened to her.

It was at that point that Charlotte realised that aside from the persistent engine hum, she could hear two shrill voices coming from the space directly around her. In her current state, she couldn't make out what the voices were saying, but it sounded like they were bickering. At her degraded rate of consciousness, it was as though she was trying to listen to voices underwater, all words sounding distant and muffled. She put all of her focus into concentrating on forcing her brain to cooperate with her ears.

"...not like your skinny body needs much room, shorty."

Was that an Irish accent?

"You can talk, you're not exactly that tall yourself. Anyway, we'd all have a lot more space if we weren't all squashed in this cell with this blonde giant."

Okay, that voice was definitely American, possibly a Boston accent? They were in a cell? Hold on, blonde giant? Were these strangers talking about her?!

With far more effort than she ever thought would be necessary, Charlotte slowly opened her eyes.

"Ah, the princess is awake. How is your highness?"

There it was, that Irish accent again. Only now with her eyes open, blurred vision slowly beginning to clear, she could put a face to the voice. Staring right ahead at her was a woman with fiery orange hair, a chiselled jaw, her mouth pulled into a mischievous smirk.

Behind the woman however, Charlotte could clearly see a metal mesh-like structure surrounding them, though her still foggy vision prevented her from seeing much further beyond. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, the same mesh was behind her as well. She didn't need to turn to assume that they were enclosed in the same structure. Looking down at her wrists and ankles, she was relived to find that she was free of restraints. Even if she was locked in a cell, at least she wasn't chained or handcuffed.

"Y'know, if we're sticking with royalty, I prefer 'Queen'," Charlotte huffed, the words slightly mumbled, her mouth still waking up.

"Having gangly limbs doesn't make you a queen, sweetheart."

Turning to her left, Charlotte looked into the eyes of a comparatively diminutive woman with caramel coloured skin, who couldn't be much over five feet tall, give or take a few inches. By far the most striking thing about her, even when factoring the accusatory glare pointed in her direction, was the woman's vivid electric blue hair. Clearly these two mystery strangers were big fans of hair dye products.

"Well excuse me for my genetics," Charlotte retorted angrily, the blue-haired Bostonian beginning to grate on her nerves with her confrontational hostile attitude.

"Yeah, come on lass, it's not her fault you came up a little short," the Irishwoman guffawed loudly at the obvious pun.

"Again with the short jokes," the blue-haired woman rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms to jab a finger in the fiery ginger's direction. "You can't have more than two inches on me!"

"Quite the small fuse on you, eh lass?".

Even in her groggy state, Charlotte couldn't help but have a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of her lips at the Irishwoman's audacity. If the blue-haired woman lost her temper and decided to lash out, there would be no way to escape out of the confined space they were all trapped in, as the perpetually irritated blue-haired woman alluded to earlier. Yet the redhead continued to taunt her. Either she lacked the intelligence to think about the consequences of her actions, or she just didn't care. Speaking of being trapped in a confined space, she should really look around and see where they are. At least she wasn't claustrophobic, or she'd have a real problem. While they weren't packed together so tightly that their limbs were forced to be in contact, they still didn't have much in the way of personal space.

"Calm down lass, don't take it so seriously. Unless you want to wake up Miss Side Ponytail over there," the ginger woman thumbed over to Charlotte's right.

"Or maybe 'Miss Side Ponytail' has been awake all this time listening to you two bicker like children?"

The fiery redhead and the irritable blue-haired woman exchanged dumbfounded looks, having seemingly forgotten about their fellow two cell occupants in their verbal sparring with each other. Especially the one whom the other three women had wrongly assumed had yet to regain consciousness the entire time.

They watched as the brunette opened her eyes sleepily, a subtle smirk on her face from her deception. She had a kindly face, and seemed to be the most calm of the four. Whereas the redheaded Irishwoman seemed to have a constant pout, and the blue-haired Bostonian bore a seemingly permanent scowl, this third woman wore a smiling, warm expression, her eyes twinkling with kindness. Was it a façade, naivety, or was this woman just genuinely the happiest person alive, Charlotte wondered.

"Well now that we're all awake, I think it's time for introductions," the Irishwoman suggested. Charlotte certainly saw sense in it. They were all locked up together, apparently, they may as well become familiar with each other if they wanted to work together to escape. "I'm Becky," the redhead continued, gesturing towards herself. "This lovely little brat to my right is Sasha," Becky wrapped her arm around the blue-haired woman's shoulder, to which Sasha immediately forcibly shrugged off and recoiled from.

"Hey, fuck you," Sasha responded, an irritable venom coating her words.

"Maybe after we escape, love," Becky teased flirtatiously, wiggling her eyebrows in Sasha's direction, causing the irritable woman to scoff in disgust.

"You'd legit be insanely lucky to even get a smile out of me, so if you think-" Sasha began, her voice raising with each word as she launched into what was sure to be an aggressive retort, her face contorted in anger. Fortunately for the eardrums of the cell's other occupants, she was interrupted before she could really get going.

"I'm Bayley," the fourth woman piped up, purposefully inserting herself as a buffer to stop Becky and Sasha from bickering further. Despite her kind face, it was clear that Bayley had had enough, and shrewdly interrupted at the most opportune moment. The calculated decision paid off, for Becky and Sasha immediately shut up at the interruption.

Moments of silence stretched by. Charlotte looked up, only to see the other three staring at her. Momentarily perplexed by this, realisation suddenly dawned on her. They were waiting for her to introduce herself.

"Does her royal highness have a name?" Becky piped up, the mischievous glint still shining in her eyes, as though her life depended on it. "Wanna make sure I'm addressing a queen by her proper title, y'know?"

"Charlotte. Why do you keep addressing me like that?" she responded, bemusement evident in her tone with irritation beginning to creep across her features.

"Oh I don't know, perhaps it's got something to do with the way you're sat, as though perched atop a throne, waiting for us to bow down?" came the redhead's response, eyebrows narrowed in a challenging smirk.

"Now that the leprechaun mentions it, you do look like you think you're better than us," Sasha butted in.

"Hey!" the so-called "leprechaun" exclaimed.

Becoming self-conscious all of a sudden, Charlotte began to see what the others were getting at. While they were all sat with a slight slouch, slumped against the cell, Charlotte's back was perfectly straight against the metal without even a hint of curvature. Hardly her fault that she knew how to take meticulous care of her body. Otherwise what kind of personal trainer would she be?

"Well excuse me for having good posture!" Charlotte spat back. She had no idea why the other two were being so rude and forming unfair assumptions about her, but it was beginning to piss her off.

"Okay okay," Bayley intervened. The other three immediately silenced at the sound of her voice. She wasn't physically intimidating by any means, quite the opposite. But there was something about her tone that captivated them, demanding their attention as though it was of grave importance. "If you three want to tear each other apart, can it at least wait until we bust out of here?"

"Where even is 'here'?" Charlotte inquired.

"We're locked in here with you," Sasha reminded her. The blue-haired woman's eyes were narrowed in an irritated frown, as though Charlotte had asked the stupidest question imaginable. "Why would you expect us to know?"

Charlotte sighed in exasperation while bringing the palms of her hands to cover her face in irritation, the ends of her fingers pressing against her temple. Of all the people to be locked in a cell with, why did it have to be these women? One couldn't go a single sentence without lashing out, and the other cracked jokes as if her life depended on it, failing to grasp the gravity of the situation. The only reasonable one was Bayley, who had barely spoken by this point, waiting for Becky and Sasha to grow tired of bickering. But at least when Bayley did speak, she actually said something of value, unlike the two immature hair dye enthusiasts.

Realising that none of her fellow prisoners knew any better than she did, Charlotte resolved to work that out for herself. Retracting her hands from her face, she turned around to peer between the metal mesh.

Although she could see beyond the structure confining them, the area beyond was dimly lit. She could just barely make out the dark grey walls, though she wondered if they only looked that colour because of the darkness filling the room like a dark cloud on a stormy day. Whoever their captors were, they clearly didn't think much to giving them clear vision of the cell's exterior. Focusing her eyes by peering around each side of the cage, she surmised that the structure took up the middle of the room, with dirty iron walls in the distance on each side of the room.

If she didn't know any better, she'd think they were being held in a dungeon. However, there was a constant faint vibration as though they were on a plane. And if she listened carefully, there was the faint hum of engines coming from afar. So were they in the air? What kind of plane was this?

She spotted the outline of a door in the wall opposite the cell door. The outline wasn't rectangular like a regular interior door but curved at the top. It clearly wasn't wooden either; instead it was a sheet of light grey metal, with a zig-zag pattern in the middle, as though cut into the door.

Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rattling metal behind her. Turning to inspect the source of the noise, the blonde was met with the sight of the Irishwoman repeatedly barge her shoulder into the cage wall.

"Becky, you're not going to break through," Charlotte sighed.

"Maybe you couldn't. But you don't have my boulder shoulders," Becky responded while flipping her orange hair out of her line of vision, shrugging said shoulders to accentuate them.

"Whoever captured us managed to do it discreetly," Bayley countered, "you really think they'd risk all that by putting us in a flimsy cell we could break out of that easily?"

"Well observed," boomed a disembodied voice in an English accent, sounding as though it emanated from an overhead speaker. The sound of sliding metal was heard, and the women turned towards the door in time to see the both sides of the zig-zag pattern retract, revealing three men wearing suits. The men walked to the edge of the cell in formation, one in front of the other two, the other two flanking him while bringing up the rear.

"We wouldn't risk losing our new pilots," the man seemingly in charge spoke, the same voice that had come through the speaker moments ago, a deep but dulcet tone. His expression was one of menace, his eyes narrowed, mouth curled wickedly. The way he looked at them reminded Sasha of someone looking at caged animals in a zoo, taking malicious satisfaction in their imprisonment.

"Pilots?" Sasha scoffed. "I don't know about these three, but I certainly don't know how to fly a plane."

"Oh, you poor, primitive human," he replied condescendingly, looking at her as though he was talking down to a child. "We have no need for any useless knowledge in your miniscule brain."

"Then how'd ya expect us to fly this plane, ya moron?" Becky retorted angrily, the Irish lilt in her voice becoming more evident the more impassioned she got. Her question was punctuated by rattling the cage aggressively.

"How fascinating!" The tone dripped with venom, both words pronounced. "Even while caged and utterly defeated you still try to fight back." He turned to his companions; glee etched onto his features. "The true mark of a primitive race."

"Get in here and I'll show you how primitive I can be!" the fiery Irishwoman challenged angrily.

"This one will need to be sedated," the male leader turned to the man on his right. The man nodded in acknowledgement, reaching into his inside pocket. Producing a syringe, he advanced towards the cell door, as though he was a hunter stalking his cornered prey. He crept closer and closer. The way Becky continued to struggle against the wall to escape her confinement, he wouldn't even need to open the door to plunge the needle into her skin.

"Stop!" Bayley bellowed. Her tone betrayed the fact that she was clearly frightened. Not for herself, but for what they had planned for an unconscious Becky. Though she had only just met the women, and hadn't necessarily gotten along yet, the possible scenarios for what they had planned was not something she wished for the redhead to experience. "You brought us here for a reason. You say you need us to pilot this plane, but none of us know how. But even if we did, that knowledge would be irrelevant to you?" she questioned, working the situation out in her head as she spoke. Her diplomacy skills were on full display, with her tone being far more civil than Sasha and Becky's had been. "Just tell us what you want us to do."

"Ah, a sensible human," the leader smiled, relieved to have found one of their prisoners more compliant than the rest.

"Stop talking like that, you fricken' little weirdo!" Becky interjected, pushing her face up against the cell mesh while rattling the structure, like a caged and enraged animal desperately trying to claw at their antagonist. Clearly the threat of sedation hadn't quietened her resolve.

Bayley turned to Becky and hissed "Dude, shut up for a minute!" She couldn't blame Becky for being so riled up of course. It was only natural for certain personalities to fight their way as hard as they could out of an unpleasant situation. Hell, Bayley wanted nothing more than to escape too. But it would be easier to do so if she could understand what these men wanted with them. These continued outbursts were getting them nowhere. Becky for her part listened, calming down a fraction. Though Bayley suspected that was more her being taken aback by Bayley daring to demand her silence.

A sly smile crossed the face of the man in charge. "A wise decision."

"Don't try to pacify me with false praise," Bayley retorted. Her facial features remained peaceful, but her words had a bitter undertone, and her eyes burned with intensity.

The other three prisoners had to pick their jaws up off the floor, each instantly gaining a measure of respect for the stoic Latina. Here they were, prisoners locked up god knows where, confronted by three exceedingly creepy and unfriendly men, and she had the courage to stand up to them. While Becky had appeared to be doing just that, deep down she knew it was more a defence mechanism, putting up a front to disguise her fear. Yet if Bayley was scared, she was doing an exceptional job of hiding it. She was standing up to them, refusing to back down. Diplomatic, yes. But her voice never quivered, sounding as firm as could be. Everything pointed towards a fierce intelligence burning within the brunette. If the others had to guess, Bayley appeared to be playing the obedient prisoner without hope, right up until an opportunity to escape presented itself.

For a tinniest fraction of a second, an animalistic snarl flickered the features of their captors at Bayley's defiant retort. The scowls quickly flitted back to a neutral expression, the transformation happening in the blink of an eye.

"Now that we understand each other, would it be too much to ask for your name?" Bayley continued.

"I am Brother Bezar," the male leader answered, a look of superiority etched across his features at imparting the knowledge.

For the second time in as many seconds, the other three women were gobsmacked by Bayley's ability to remain so calm and collected in the face of despair. Not only that, but she'd managed to coax some information out of their captors without so much as raising her voice. Of course simply knowing the leader's name wouldn't help them too much, but it signified a small victory by allowing the balance of power to shift infinitesimally.

"You will come with us," Bezar said in a silky-smooth voice, smiling. But this wasn't a kind smile. It was a sinister smile, an undertone of knowing how helpless their prisoners truly were, with hidden elation at the fact that they didn't know exactly how much trouble they were in yet.

He motioned to one of his subordinates, who retrieved a keycard from his pocket and flashed it against the cell door's control. A high-pitch beep sounded, and the dull sound of the metal lock shifting to unlock itself could be heard.

The four women remained stood in place expectedly, waiting for their oppressors to make their next move.

"But I feel I must warn you," Bezar continued, his tone oozing with menace, "it would be foolish to attempt to escape. Especially once you see our true form."

A cloud of smoke billowed from each of the mens' mouths. It swirled around them and enveloped their bodies, shrouding them like a cloak, keeping them hidden from view.

The smoke began to clear, and what the collective womens' eyes bore witness to truly terrified them. Where once humans had stood, there was no trace of the humanoid forms they had once occupied. In their place stood three towering bat-like creatures, leathery skin a shade of light brown. Each of the creatures had two wings protruding from their back. All three unfurled said wings almost simultaneously, in near-perfect sync with each other. Charlotte estimated that each wing had to be four feet long at least.

Their piercing red eyes bore into the soul of each woman, unnerving them to their core. The creatures' long faces extended down to their mouths. Even while closed, a multitude of jagged teeth were visible. But perhaps the most alarming physical feature about these demonic-looking creatures were the pointy yellow claws at the end of their fingers, like a deadly version of a human fingernail.

Sasha, Becky and Charlotte could do nothing but stand there, mouths gaped wide open in a silent scream, frozen to the spot with terror. Even Bayley allowed her fear to overtake her. The creatures opened their mouths and released a terrifying inhuman shriek, saliva dripping from their open mouths. The smoke returned, coming up through their throats, hiding their bodies from sight once more. When it parted, the three were once again in human form, allowing the women to relax ever so slightly. While they would never forget the nightmarish image they had just bore witness to, they were no longer crippled with fear now that it was no longer in front of them.

"Now, do we all understand each other?" Bezar asked threateningly, a twisted smirk etched devilishly across his face. He knew they were absolutely helpless against their deadly true form; their razor-sharp claws and teeth would rip them apart in an instant. The question wasn't asked because the alien cared one way or the other. It was asked simply to taunt them.

The four women for their part, didn't open their mouths to answer verbally. Nor did they nod in affirmation. They didn't want to give this creature the satisfaction of knowing just how scared they truly were, though their scent was probably rife with fear. Instead they just stood impassively, trying not to let the full extent of their emotions show through their expression or body language. Understandably however, the intent was met with only mixed results.

"Good," the creature retorted in lieu of a verbalised response, deciding that their silence was enough of an acknowledgement. "You will come with us. There's no use in trying to escape, as we just demonstrated."

One of Bezar's subordinates reached out and pulled the cell door open before stepping aside to allow the prisoners to exit the cage. The width of the door only allowed them to do so in single file. Once they were all out the three disguised aliens moved to put themselves in formation. Bezar and one of his guards stood at the top of the rear, with each woman ordered to remain in single file behind. The other guard took up the rear, constantly watching the prisoners in case they tried anything. Likewise, Bezar and the guard at the front were there to prevent the exact same thing. With their backs to them, the women would have stood a much better chance of taking out their oppressors if there was just one at the front. Hence why there were two.

The group of seven began to walk out of the metal door the aliens had entered through. As the women moved down the corridor, they took note of the dark, dingy feel to it. The lights were exceedingly dim, barely allowing them to see at all. Metal pipes ran along the walls, presumably carrying power along the length of the craft. Although they'd previously presumed the vehicle they were inside to be an airplane, now with the disturbing reveal of the true nature of their captors, they weren't so sure anymore.

That late revision was proven before their very eyes as the doors to the room at the end of the corridor slid open as they approached. Inside stood a dirty, large, metallic rectangular console, standing four feet or so off the floor, with a wide variety of buttons and levers dotted across its surface. Dotted all around in a semi-circle behind the console stood numerous panels, all with large handprints embedded. Only they weren't human handprints, no. These handprints bore an uncanny resemblance to the hands of the creatures before them, in that brief moment of terror in which they revealed their alien forms.

But the interfaces wasn't what grabbed their attention the most. At the end of the room beyond the console, was a gigantic glass window. On the other side of the window? A seemingly unending black void, with stars twinkling all around, though a sphere could be seen in the distance, blue and green just barely visible. At this point, it was blindingly obvious that they weren't being held on a plane. They were in space.

"Holy…shit," Sasha gasped, striding forward towards the window. Evidently she had momentarily forgotten her current status as prisoner, her gaze lost in the wonder on display before her.

"Shorty…" Becky hissed quietly in warning, noticing their captors advance in pursuit of the wayward prisoner.

Just as she as she approached closer, Sasha yelped in surprise as she suddenly felt herself forcefully yanked back. Her captor wheeled her back around, coming face-to-face with Brother Bezar.

"You will not do anything unless we tell you to do so," the nefarious alien snarled before clearing the scowl off his face before turning to regard all four of the women. "And what you will do now, is get into those chairs."

Bezar motioned towards the end of the control deck where the large window showcasing the outside space stood. What the women had failed to notice were four metal chairs placed around the window. Two on the left side of the window, two of the right side of the room. They weren't ordinary chairs, they looked more like dental chairs. What really set them apart were wires running up the chair, all connecting to a helmet perched a foot above the chair, looking like it was ready to be raised. The helmet itself was a design with just the basic skeleton of the top of a human head, with various holes running throughout, not unlike a bicycle helmet. Clearly the purpose was merely to just fit around a human head, not to cover it entirely.

"Nah, those chairs look a bit shite," Becky retorted with a tiny grin tugging on her lips, defiance clear as day. "I think I'll stay standing, but cheers for the offer."

Bezar growled at the disobedient prisoner, looking ready to explode in fury.

"Remind us, why should we do anything you say?" Charlotte spoke up, finally finding her voice in the shocking events the four abducted women had been put through. The question was not spoken out of spite or coated in sarcasm, but was a genuine question. Though they had already been intimidated minutes before, she still wanted confirmation before judging whether to mount an escape attempt.

Bezar immediately calmed and smirked at her, the evil glint in his eye indicating just how much he was relishing reminding the poor women of their brutal capabilities.

"Either you sit in those chairs of your own free will, or we will place you there by force. The choice is yours." If the smirk on Bezar's face was threatening before, now it was borderline sadistic. It was as though he was begging the women to try to make things difficult for themselves.

"But you need us alive," Bayley piped up, her tone as diplomatic as ever, despite the anger coursing inside of her at their present predicament.

The sadistic smile was turned to regard the brunette, softening slightly, having since deducted that Bayley was more reasonable than the other three, and therefore easier to bend to their will rather than intimidated. "You are correct, we do need you alive. However, that doesn't mean to say that we necessarily need you unharmed. As long as you still breathe and your brain is still active, that's all we need." The unspoken insinuation of physical harm seemed to incite the man further. His eyes didn't just have a hint of menace, they were almost glowing with glee at the very idea.

Seeing no other option, three of the four women sighed in exasperation, trying their best not to shake with panic. As brave as they might be, they were smart enough to know that they wouldn't stand a chance against those horrifically sharp claws the human forms hid. So against their will, they knew they had no choice but to comply, lest they risk being torn apart almost to the point of death. And so it was with great reluctance that they walked over to the chairs and rested their bodies on, in the halfway point between sitting and laying down that the style of chair provided.

Of course, there was one of the prisoners that made no attempt to move. And glancing back, there was really no surprise who it was.

"Becky!" Bayley hissed at the motionless woman, still remaining on the exact same spot she had been since entering the room.

"But-" the ginger Irishwoman started, before being cut off.

"Please, just trust me," Bayley pleaded, her eyes sparkling with urgency. They may have been complete strangers until an hour ago, but they were all imprisoned together. If the foul aliens felt they had enough excuse, she knew they would have no qualms inflicting torture upon the redhead, as they had only just strongly implied. And right now, Becky was on the cusp of giving them that excuse. She couldn't bear to allow that to happen.

Becky huffed, and Bayley felt relief wash over her as the problematic woman finally strode over to the remaining vacant chair. She wasn't doing it gracefully though, an artificial swagger in her step. She'd studied the woman long enough now to know it was all a front. Deep down, the woman was just as terrified as the rest of them.

As the last woman settled into her chair, Bezar walked over to the centre console and pulled down a lever. The helmets above each chair lowered, settling and securing on each woman's skull. The metal was cold to the touch, the cool contact on the skin causing each woman to involuntarily gasp.

Brother Bezar turned to his companions. "Our time has come, my brothers. Today we shall journey onward."

Shifting back towards the console, Bezar flicked a switch, causing hidden metal restraints to shoot upwards out of the sides of the chairs and fasten around each woman's wrists before snapping down in place.

"What the fook?!" Becky yelped in surprise. While the other three women didn't voice a verbal outburst, they struggled against the restrains nonetheless – to no avail.

"Now, this is going to hurt," Bezar flashed a wicked grin at the four women, knowing full well the effect of what he was about to would have on their brains.

"No no, please," Charlotte begged, suddenly overcome with fear at the unknown.

"You don't have to do this!" Bayley tried to reason, though even she knew it was futile.

"Get this off of me right now!" Sasha yelled in panic, rattling the restraints in a desperate attempt to shift them, but they wouldn't budge.

"I'M GOIN' A SLAP THE HEADS OFFA ALL'A YOU DOPES!" Becky bellowed, her Irish lilt coming out stronger than ever before in her white-hot fury. She forcefully thrashed as much as the restraints would allow her to, but it made no difference.

Each of the four women continued to individually protest, the sadistic creatures watching in amusement, Bezar's finger hovering above the switch he planned to activate. The voices overlapped as each woman's respective panic rose even higher. But then something unexpected happened to break every person in the room into stunned silence.

A high pitched, warbly, pulsating sound sounded throughout the room, growing louder and more frantic. Loose objects scattered about the room began to fly around as an intense wind blew around the control room. But that made no sense, they were aboard a spaceship. The sound was then joined by an artificial wheezing, groaning, almost grating noise. Charlotte, Becky, Sasha and Bayley darted their eyes around the room, trying to locate the source of the mysterious sounds. And then they saw it.

In one of the far corners of the room, a tall blue box materialised into view before their eyes, despite the space being empty just a second before. The wall behind it was still visible, the strange object semi-transparent at best. The box then faded out of view before it could turn from transparent to opaque. The groaning noise grew louder and more pronounced as the box returned before fading out, and then fading in again.

This pattern continued for several seconds, the materialisation and prompt dematerialisation occurring in synchronisation with the mechanical thrumming rising and falling, rising and falling, over and over again. The wind picked up ferocity as the groaning sound continued to climb. Each time the object returned, it became ever so slightly less transparent and more opaque. Even in this transparent form, a lantern could be seen at the top of the object, shining with brilliant white light as the box materialised, the light fading as it dematerialised, before returning in full force for the next materialisation. As the women watched, each lost somewhere in between bewilderment and amazement at the fantastical sight, the object materialised for the final time before stopping. A single thumping noise, almost like a single bang against a bass drum sounded to signify this. The object was now a fully opaque, solid object.

Now that the blue box had fully materialised into the room, the onlookers could get a much closer look at it. It was rectangular, a similar basic shape and size to a telephone booth. Only it was taller, perhaps around ten feet or so. Most baffling of all, it looked as though it was made of wood, painted a striking shade of dark blue. A door handle could be seen on the right-hand side, indicating that they were currently looking at the doors to open the bizarre object.

Square panels were indented running up almost the entire length of the box, four panels on the left-hand side, four on the right-hand side. Most of these indented panels were without defining characteristics, but not all. Halfway up on one side, a panel was painted white, with lettering inscribed, though they were currently too far away to read it. Above the white panel on both sides of the front doors, were sectioned panes of glass, two rows of three. Glancing above the windows, a black strip ran across the entire length of the front of the object, with words inscribed. Unlike the smaller lettering further down, these were large enough to read: "POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX".

What on earth did those letters mean? It was written in English, so had this come from Earth? How could the police possibly have advanced technology such as this? The very idea that the police went into space was a preposterous notion. Yet here the letters were. Was there a space police now?

The unanswered questions and fantastical sight continued to keep the four women's heads spinning. And even more questions came to mind as they hear the sound of wood squeaking. One of the doors to the box was pulled open from the inside, and a man stepped forth from within.

"Ah, hello there!" The man spoke to the room with a clear English accent. Each word was spoken clearly with precision, no hint of a defining regional accent. As he spoke, he strode farther into the room as though he owned it, a grin across his face. But unlike their alien captors, his grin oozed calm rather than anything malicious. The stranger radiated an air of being entirely in control of the situation he had just stumbled into. But how could he? Was this all an act to lure the women into a false sense of security to prevent their struggles?

His dark brown hair was styled in a quiff, combed to the side at the front, flopping down towards the top of one eye. "Oh look, you've holding some humans captive!" he spoke to the disguised alien creatures, in an enthusiastic tone that implied glee, pointing over to the four women still bonded to the metal chairs. The man's grin slowly turned to a subtle frown. "Nothing says brave like kidnapping four innocent women."

The women just continued staring at the man in bewilderment. Here he was, a seemingly ordinary man, and he had the gall to make sarcastic comments to the terrifying monsters hidden in human form. As far as Charlotte was concerned, there were three possibilities. Either he was completely ignorant of their true nature, a fool, or a madman.

But if the man's attitude was striking enough, it was nothing compared to his attire. Dressed in a tweed jacket, braces could be seen underneath his jacket atop a white shirt. But completing the look was a burgundy bowtie. If this man was from present day Earth, then clearly his fashion ideals were not.

"You'd know all about that, Doctor," Bezar retorted with a confident smirk, as though he was taking glee from having this man storm in and interrupt whatever he had planned. His eyes told a different story. While the smirk still tugged at his lips, his eyes burned with what looked like hatred, and a malicious desire to inflict torment. "You butchered my brothers and flew for the stars!" he spat, his voice raising, his smirk finally curling into a scowl.

"Your brothers?" the man identified as Doctor asked, eyebrows arched slightly in confusion.

"Brother Lassar," Bezar growled, a slight fury coating his tone.

"Brother Lassar? Rings a bell…" the man trailed off, as though deep in thought.

"Excuse us, is this a private conversation, or can any of us jump in?" Becky interrupted the pair, her previous anger turned to a mixture of amusement and annoyance. She switched her focus to stare at the ridiculous stranger. "And who the hell are you?"

"Rebecca Lynch!" the man answered back, wheeling round to regard her with a grin, as though in recognition.

"Rebecca?" Sasha scoffed in mockery at Becky's expense, continuing their earlier back and forth. Confined to the chair, Becky could do little more than glare in retaliation.

"You were brilliant in that one film where you flipped over the motorbike handles!" the man praised with great enthusiasm, speaking animatedly as though he were a child on a sugar rush, before suddenly stopping with a frown. "Or have you not done that one yet?" He waited for a second before flapping his hands up. "Doesn't matter! I'm the Doctor."

The Doctor looked as if he was about to say more before closing his mouth and opening it again in a silent 'o' shape, as though comprehension had just dawned on him.

"Brother Lassar? Of course, you're Krillitanes!" the Doctor gasped in realisation, a smile across his face at having solved the puzzle in his own memory. The smile quickly dropped as another thought occurred to him. "This is a bit awkward now, isn't it?"

"Nothing awkward here, Doctor," Bezar answered, a devilish smile, looking as though it was intended as a taunt. "I'll avenge the loss of my brothers and we'll carry out our plan."

"Ah yes, your brothers who fed on the staff and pupils at Deffry Vale." The Doctor voice's voice did not raise in volume, but grew more bitter at the reference to past events as though in judgement. "Tell me, what's this plan of yours?"

"Why should we just give you the answers? You're such a pompous individual, Doctor. Show me how clever you are, and work it out."

The Doctor raised his head, his hazel-green eyes glistening as though the challenge woke something up in him. He stood in thought for a second before wheeling to point at the four women, or rather the chairs they sat in, snapping his fingers in their direction. "Those look like your standard spatial warp programmers to me. Telepathic devices, allowing one's will to set a course across space."

Sasha, Bayley, Charlotte and Becky all remained silent as they watched this strange man known only as the Doctor speak excitedly, seemingly enjoying explaining the situation. He gestured wildly as he talked, seemingly unable to stay still.

"But why? Why abduct humans? This ship looks in perfectly working order. You could just program a course yourselves ordinarily without the need for those programmers. Why do you need them?"

Bezar's face fell at the barrage of questions. Everything he'd known about the Doctor from Brother Lassar's reports were all true. He'd underestimated the Doctor, and it was only a matter of time until he worked out the answers.

"We…had no other choice." For the first time, Bezar's voice didn't sound as though he was fully in control of the situation.

"But you-" the Doctor started, but then closed his mouth again. His eyes widened as realisation washed over him. "Ho ho, I get it," he laughed, clapping his hands together, "this is rich! The controls don't respond to you, do they? Isomorphic, they should respond only to you, but they don't. You've changed your body structure so much since this ship was built, it no longer recognises you as Krillitanes."

The Doctor then turned to regard the four women. "That's the problems with Krillitanes, you see. They wage war on other lifeforms, cherry-picking and absorbing the best bits from the people they destroy."

"Is that really something we needed to know?" Sasha asked, frustration evident in her voice.

"Not really, I just wanted to involve you in the conversation," the Doctor grinned reassuringly. The gesture actually worked to calm all four women down somewhat. Though they were still afraid and confused, the man with his dark brown hair flopping about emanated warmth, and they felt a strange pull to trust him. After all, what did they really have to lose?

"But there's one thing I don't understand though. Why these four women particularly? What's so special about them?" the Doctor resumed his questioning to the Krillitane leader.

"They want to escape," Bezar answered. The Doctor furrowed his brow as he continued to listen. "The parameters were adjusted to select four humans from Earth who wanted to travel, who wished to achieve far more than their mundane lives could offer. We want to escape this wretched sector of space, and we will use their minds to do so."

"While frying their brains in the process!" the Doctor's outrage and disgust was palpable in his tone, though one look at his face revealed that he was trying to keep his anger contained.

"WHAT?!" all four women shouted out simultaneously, all taken aback by this startling new reveal. Not only was there a tone of overwhelming fear, but distinct anger mixed in. Only natural of course, nobody would be happy to discover that they were in very grave danger.

"Enough talk, our odyssey begins," Bezar said, growing tired of the prolonged disruption to his plans. His finger hovered around the switch, the glint in his eyes betraying his eagerness to pull it down and sacrifice the innocent women for his nefarious purposes.

"WAIT!" the Doctor shouted to take Bezar's attention away from what he planned to do. "You don't have to do this. I can take you anywhere you want." One of the Doctor's palms was raised flat in the air around his chest in Bezar's direction, while the other hand pointed towards the restrained women. He was not pleading with his words, but with his body language too, urging the aliens to stop. "Just let these humans go."

"And put myself in the debt of a Time Lord? I think not!" Bezar snarled.

'Time Lord'? Becky's mind worked into overdrive. The way Bezar emphasised those two words, spitting them out as though they were toxic, it must be important. But what did they mean? Was it a name or a title?

The Doctor's eyelids dropped, closing in frustration at the rejection of his generous offer. Why did they always have to be like this? His eyes slowly opened again a second later, boring a hole into the back of Bezar's head, who had since turned back towards the command console, making the mistake of turning his back on the Doctor. "Well then, you brought this on yourself." Quick as lightening, before Bezar had time to his attention back to the Doctor, the mysterious bowtie wearing man reached inside his tweed jacket inside pocket and flung a small object at the feet of the Krillitanes.

A high-pitched electronic squeal emanated, and there was a stunning flash of electric blue light, almost blinding the eyes of the room's occupants. When their vision returned to normal, the women looked over and saw the three aliens rooted to the spot. Only they were no longer in human disguise, they were back to their towering bat-like alien form. They scratched at the air with their sharp claws, howling in anger, and tiny yellow sparks dropped to the ground from where they clawed into the air. It was as though they were surrounded by a forcefield preventing them from breaking free from their current standing.

Charlotte's attention was snapped back as she noticed the Doctor beside her, retrieving a cylindrical handheld device from his top pocket. He pointed the strange apparatus at the metal restraints trapping her wrists in place. Though she couldn't get a good look at it, she did see a green light emit from the device. A whirring high-pitched electronic noise emitted from the gadget, and the metal restraints parted, sliding back into the chair, allowing her free movement once again.

Without a word, the Doctor quickly dashed off to do the same for the other three women. Charlotte swung her legs over the chair and made an effort to stand, but something prevented her from doing so, tugging her back down to the chair, pulling at her hair.

She hastened a quick glance over her shoulder, and the cool touch of metal on the top of her head enlightened her as to what was stopping her from leaving. The helmet was still attached to her head. The Doctor had freed her from the restraints, but not the helmet keeping her plugged in.

Looking around her, the other women had similar experiences. Unfortunately for them, the Doctor had failed to notice, dashing off back towards the blue box he'd arrived in. "Come on, let's get out of-AGH!" the Doctor exclaimed in shock as he felt something stop him in his tracks and pull him back several inches. Something pointed forcefully grabbed hold of his jacket, a sharp claw scratching up against his back, threatening to carve into his flesh. In his rush to escape, he hadn't noticed Bezar break free of the forcefield.

"I think not, Doctor!" Now that he was now in bat form, his voice sounded amplified, an animalistic growl adding to the malevolent tone. "For centuries you've guarded humanity. I can't think of a fitting end for you than to stand and watch as these humans burn before your eyes, helpless to save them, moments before being torn apart!"

The tearing of fabric was audible as the Doctor's body was yanked around to face the trapped women. His glistening eyes were filled with a multitude of emotions. Fear, regret, anger, remorse, sadness, all were reflected in the dark brown-green pools. Bezar spoke the truth; the Doctor was truly helpless to do anything to stop it.

It was in that moment that Bayley made a decision. They'd sat back and listened intently to the bizarre conversation for the past several minutes, taking in every detail. It was like they were flies on the wall, no attention paid to their presence, just listening in to a back and forth that made little sense to them. Most importantly of all, the Doctor had explained how the helmets they were plugged into worked, and Bezar had made no move to debunk it. A bitter smirk grew across her features. The Krillitanes wanted to go on a journey? She'd ensure it would be one they'd never forget.

A sharp thud echoed around the room as the lever was thrown, and the ship immediately lurched forward. Becky, Bayley, Sasha and Charlotte all had to grip desperately onto the chairs, as the ship vibrated with movement. The stars shifted in the glass window, confirming that they were now travelling throughout space with great speed. But they had no time to revel in that.

A throbbing pain began to build inside each woman's head. The pain accelerated with every passing second. The sensation was as though someone was digging inside their brain, scooping out every bit of information contained inside, until they found exactly what they were looking for.

They couldn't help but repeatedly cry out and grit their teeth, groaning in pain. The more seconds that passed, the more pain inside their brain, and therefore the more they screamed in agony.

Bayley tried her best to block out the pain, remaining as calm as humanly possible, urging her mind to focus on one specific image. She desperately hoped the others had the intelligence and wherewithal to do the same. She focused on the most dangerous place she could think of at such short notice.

As the spaceship zipped past stars at frightening speed, one globe zoomed dead ahead, seemingly expanding in size as the vessel drew closer. It appeared to churn with a deadly but dazzling fire of red, orange, and yellow. A maelstrom of boiling heat.

A high-pitched electronic warble sounded throughout the room, sounding like an alarm.

"What?!" Bezar spat, his eyes glowing with fury, lips curled in a furious glare.

The temperature of the room suddenly began to steadily climb, and a dark red light flooded the room, the alarm warble sounding more desperate and frantic the longer it sounded.

Relieved from the razor-sharp grip as Bezar released his hold on the Doctor, he shot a proud grin over to the women. Although their pain was not abating, their actions spurred them.

As the temperature rose higher and higher, beginning to reach uncomfortable levels, sticky sweat beginning to coat skin, the room began to shake, as though the ship itself was desperately trying to break free from its perilous course destination, but to no avail.

"And that's why you never let me explain!" the Doctor gleefully taunted the sinister alien, grinning madly with relief. "I told you: you brought it on yourself."

A loud crackle sounded as sparks began to fly from the console, the heat evidently wreaking havoc on the ship. Bezar flinched momentarily, but continued desperately scratching away at various controls, hysterically trying to do anything to change course.

"You told them that you were going to use their thoughts to take you across space, but you didn't count on them turning that against you, did you?" the Doctor bellowed above the increasing noise. The blaring alarm, the terrified shrieks of the Krillitane guards, and rattle of the spaceship, all made it necessary to speak in raised voices to be heard.

"And now, you are being flung right into the heart of the Sun!" the Doctor pointed at the view outside the windows, the Sun now enormous to the point of being all they could see. He turned back to Bezar. "Not the ideal holiday destination, I know. I hope you packed sunscreen."

The Doctor's verbal reprimanding was interrupted by a panicked and pained voice. "Enough talk, get us out of here!" Sasha screeched, clearly the pain and fear was becoming too much to bear, a sentiment shared by her three fellow prisoners.

"Sorry!" the Doctor raised his hands as he skidded towards the chairs, stopping to catch himself on a nearby control panel as his feet became unsteadied by a quake rocking the ship. The Doctor then began to set to work using his handheld cylindrical gadget to free the helmets' grasps on their heads.

Dust and rubble began to fall from the ceiling, chunks of metal raining down. Fortunately the ceiling hadn't begun disintegrating at the section of the room which housed the four chairs, but it was only a matter of time. There was a palpable sense of urgency as the Doctor scrambled to free the four women. Two particularly large chunks collapsed right on top of the two Krillitane guards, crushing them beneath the weight, surprised screeches being heard momentarily before being subsequently silenced. The only captor remaining was now Brother Bezar.

Turning in realisation at his brothers' fate, Bezar turned back to the women and the Doctor with unbridled fury, his red eyes burning with rage, mouth opening to emit a piercing shriek, sharp long teeth on full display. He flapped his wings, propelling him into the air, flying with increasing speed towards them. So far Charlotte and Bayley were free, the Doctor still working to free Becky while Sasha remained trapped.

Thinking fast, Charlotte spotted a chunk of metal debris near her feet. While guaranteed to be heavy, it looked light enough for her to be capable of picking it up, while sure to stop anyone in their tracks if thrown at them. The sound of wings flapping drew closer, the malevolent alien flying towards her with intent to harm. Groaning as she struggled to pick up the debris, she drew every reserve of physical strength she had, launching the chunk of metal right at the advancing Krillitane. The chunk hit Bezar square in the face. Blood trickled from the gash between his eyes, as his prone body fell to the floor with an audible thump.

By the time Charlotte had taken care of the impending danger, the Doctor had managed to unlock the helmets grasp on Sasha, each of the women now freed from their shackles before it had the chance to burn their minds. "RIGHT, NOW, INTO THAT BLUE BOX!" the Doctor shouted above the chaotic noise surrounding the ship's continued descent into the Sun. The temperature had now reached unbearable levels, leaving them all feeling light-headed. Though they were sure the helmets had some level of responsibility for that, the rising temperature did not help.

Rubble continued to rain down from the ceiling as they reached the large blue object the Doctor had arrived in. Pushing the doors open, the Doctor dashed inside, waiting for the four women to do the same before closing them.

When the women stumbled their way inside, they were left dumbfounded in shock by the breathtaking sight they saw before their very eyes. If they thought their experience was crazy before, now it was downright insane.


	6. Chapter 6

There hadn't been a crazier day in the lives of Charlotte Flair, Bayley Martinez, Sasha Banks and Becky Lynch. Even the most insane days in each of their lives put together wouldn't even come close to the pure insanity they'd just been through – and were currently still experiencing.

Not only had the four women been plucked out of their individual locations on Earth and beamed up to an alien spaceship, but they'd been confronted by their alien bat captors masquerading in human forms. And then they'd been strapped into chairs fitted with telepathic programmers, their subjugators intending to burn their brains out to use them to pilot their stranded spacecraft.

All of that was crazy enough as it was. But then a blue box had materialised out of nowhere, a man stepping forth to introduce himself as the Doctor, scolding their alien captors known as the Krillitane.

The stranger known as the Doctor had strutted as though he owned the place, showing no fear and openly mocking the terrifying bat-like aliens. He'd cracked jokes with the air of someone who was entirely in control of the situation. He was either a man with a fierce intelligence, or a complete fool. Given his choice of attire – a tweed jacket and a bowtie – there was considerable evidence of the latter.

Everything seemed to be looking up for the confused and afraid women. The Doctor had contained the Krillitanes in a forcefield and set about freeing them from their bonds, when disaster had struck. The head Krillitane had broken free, restrained the Doctor, and started the process of using the four women's minds to pilot the ship, with the dire consequence of burning their brains in the process.

Fortunately, the information cleverly extracted over the prior conversation allowed Becky, Sasha, Bayley and Charlotte to turn the tables on their captors. The Krillitanes had wanted to leave. The imprisoned women would make sure that it was a journey they'd never forget. Focusing their combined mental strength to send the spacecraft into the heart of the Sun, chaos ensued as the temperature soared. This had allowed the Doctor to escape and free the bound women, the lone surviving Krillitane helpless to change course as the ship started to break apart due to the external forces.

Just as they were ready to make their escape, it looked as though they might come to an untimely end after all. Through the smoke, the surviving Krillitane leader took flight, threatening to use his vicious claws to tear the would-be escapees apart. Charlotte had had the strength and wherewithal to pick up a chunk of fallen metal and hurl it at the approaching creature, incapacitating him.

Leaving Brother Bezar to his arguably well-deserved fate, the four women ran with the Doctor into his blue box, but what they saw made all of what had happened beforehand seem relatively sane.

* * *

"What the-"

The wonderment contained in those two words from Sasha Banks could not have been any more palpable. So stunned by what she saw, Sasha couldn't even finish that question with more colourful language.

The other three women jostled past a motionless Sasha, whose eyes were drinking in every single impossible detail of the room they'd entered. As they all clapped eyes on it, Becky, Charlotte and Bayley were left just as speechless, looking around in awe.

They'd assumed that the five of them would be crammed inside of a small wooden box, packed in like sardines. After all, a small blue box was what the Doctor had arrived in. But they couldn't have been more wrong. Instead they'd been faced with an impossible sight. The room they'd crossed the threshold of was huge! Of all the insanity they'd been put through today, this was easily the icing on the cake. There was simply no way such a room could be so much bigger on the inside.

From rough calculations of her eyes, Bayley estimated the room they were standing in alone was easily ten times as large as the exterior. And that's not including the doorway below them at the end of the room with the beginnings of a corridor that led beyond. A gentle hum echoed around the spacious room, the sound emitting an aura of calm.

"I know! I know! Just hang on a minute."

As soon as he'd dashed inside, the Doctor had skidded to a halt at a structure that dominated the room, sitting at the dead centre. The structure was a hexagon of metal panels. From what they could see at their current distance, each individual control panel was filled with a different variety of levers and switches. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were currently standing in a spaceship of some kind, and the hexagonal structure was the console used to pilot the ship.

A circular glass tube ran from below the hexagonal console to up above it. A multitude of thin glass tubes were encased in the much thicker glass. These inner tubes emitted a teal glow leaning more to green than blue. The intense light was bright enough to see, but not bright enough to properly illuminate the entirety of the room, giving off a mood lighting vibe.

The Doctor snapped his fingers, and the doors slammed shut behind them, making the four bewildered women jump at the sudden noise. Turning back to the Doctor, they watched him pull a sturdy-looking lever, and that's when the calmness of the room changed. The room suddenly seemed to shudder, causing the women to stumble at the unexpected turbulence, gripping the metal railings beside them at the entryway to steady themselves. The thin inner tubes inside the larger tube began to rise and fall. And then they heard it once more. The same grinding, warbling, whooshing sound they'd heard as the object had materialised earlier.

Looking up, they noticed that the thick glass tube led up to expand outwards in metal, the circular shape not unlike the end of a French horn. At the very top the shape was rounded off by a variety of mysterious symbols running along the edges. The symbols were unlike anything any of them had ever seen before. It didn't match any known language.

Those same edges rotated around as the inner tubes continued to rise and fall, spinning around like helicopter blades.

"What's happening?" Charlotte called out amid the frenetic energy inside the room.

"We're in flight!" the Doctor shouted back. If the childish glee wasn't evident enough on his face, it was in his tone. Becky had a sneaking suspicion that the man had been through this same experience hundreds of times before, if not more. However, it was the thrill of giving this experience to the four women for the first time that induced his glee. It was not completely unlike her stunt work, she mused. Although she'd ran stunts hundreds of times before, she always got an extra thrill and a certain sense of pride when she knew someone was watching her work for the very first time.

"You mean this box can fly?!" Bayley shouted in stunned surprise.

"Well how else did you think I was going to get you out of there?" he called back. "Wave a wand and magic you back to Earth?"

"I thought we'd fly back on something more…conventional," Bayley retorted. "Not a tiny pod that looks like it's made of wood."

"Oi! She'll get upset if you talk about her like that!"

At first Bayley chuckled at the joke, but then the warning look from the Doctor gave her pause. "Surely you're not serious?" A nod told her he was. "You're telling me this spaceship is alive?!"

"Not conscious in the way you and I know it, but the TARDIS is sentient," he confirmed. "She's the one who pointed me in your direction by the way, so I'd be more complimentary if I were you."

Before Bayley could respond, a thud - not unlike a bass drum - echoed around the room, and everything steadied down to the same neutral state the room had been when they'd entered. No turbulence, and the centre console was still again.

The return of calm to the room allowed the woman to look closer around the room. The in-flight turbulence had unintentionally jolted them further into the room, where they could now get a closer look. The control portion of the room was in fact on a circular platform surrounded by the same metal railing they'd had to grip earlier to keep themselves upright. Now they could see stairs leading down, where they could see that the centre console went right down to the metal floor below. They could also see the doorway they'd glimpsed earlier, devoid of an actual door, leading to a corridor.

On the platform they were currently standing on, steam hissed out from vents around their feet. But the large centre console wasn't the only object on the platform. There was also a metallic chair placed next to a rectangular panel, which they assumed was a secondary control panel. But it was far beyond them to understand the controls and mechanics of the ship. All they could do was trust this eccentric madman that had crashed into their lives.

Looking further around the room, they could not only see the stairs leading down below, but also stairs leading up to a balcony that surrounded the entire circumference of the room. Illuminated blue discs lined the walls going around the room. Above the illuminated circles, lights danced around in a clockwise fashion around the room.

It was bizarre stepping through the doors of the wooden blue box into a metallic room that was bigger on the inside. But bizarre didn't even seem to cut it. There was no word in the English language to sum up just how crazy the day's events had been.

"So!" the Doctor clapped his hands to get their attention. "First things first: no, you are not going mad. Yes, you are standing in a ship that's bigger on the inside than the outside."

Charlotte gasped involuntarily in shock. She didn't think her own internal feelings had been showing so clearly outwardly. She had indeed been questioning her own sanity. But how could one not? Kidnapped by aliens, that was crazy, but somewhat plausible. But standing in a spaceship that was bigger on the inside than the outside? That was pushing it. But she was still considering the possibility that she'd been overdoing things at work, and this was all a crazy fever dream.

"But, how?" Bayley asked inquisitively.

"It's dimensionally transcendental." Fully expecting the blank looks the explanation was met with, the Doctor didn't waste much time explaining further, gesturing with his hands animatedly as he spoke. "Basically, the inside is located in a different dimension to the outside."

"Who are you?" Sasha finally managed to ask, finding her tongue once her brain had finally begun to slow down and process the new information.

"I'm the Doctor." The casual way he repeated this already known information seemed to be brushing them off, but at least one of the women wouldn't be deterred so easily.

"No, but really, who are you?" Bayley asked, firmness blazing in her eyes. She wanted answers, and she wouldn't stop asking until she got them. "Those, that thing in there," she stumbled, clearly still having taken a toll from the ordeal. "He called you a 'Time Lord'. But what does that mean?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but Charlotte interjected. "You called us 'humans' in there, like you're not one of us. So who are you really, Doctor? After all we've been through today, I think we deserve to know." She now shared the same steely glint in her eyes as Bayley; a burning desire to get answers. Now that the source of their fear had been removed, their resolve had returned in full force.

The Doctor sighed, admitting defeat. He straightened his bowtie before launching into an explanation. "Well done." The smile reached his eyes, making clear that his words were genuine rather than sarcastic. "You've earned answers from those deductions alone."

He stepped away from the console and forward towards the group of four women, ensuring that he gave them his undivided attention.

"I'm not human. I'm an alien. I've lived for 1,000 years now, give or take. I'm not entirely sure, it's hard to keep track when you're a time traveller." Although he didn't laugh, it was clear that that last part was at least partially flippant, something that seemed to be a recurring theme. "The TARDIS, or Time and Relative Dimensions in Space if you want the long version, is mine. I fly around the universe, seeking all the amazing, wonderful things it has to offer. Oh, I've also got two hearts and I hate pears. Any questions?"

Three of the women remained stood in stunned silence, mouths hanging open in shock, their minds processing the impossible information. All except Becky, who was still scanning the room in childish wonderment, still enraptured by the preposterous sight.

"Holy shit!"

"Oi! Don't swear!" the Doctor quickly chided the Irishwoman, pointing as an exclamation point. She glared back at the rebuke.

Sasha raised her eyebrows. "Seriously? You're a 1,000-year-old alien who travels through time, fighting terrifying aliens, and you can't handle a bit of profanity?"

"Oh of course I can handle it, I just don't approve." The Doctor purposefully slowed his words down towards the end, making his position on the matter perfectly clear. "And that's something you'll just have to understand, if you decide to accept my offer."

Bayley was the first to question, "What offer?"

"All of time and all of space. It's all just sitting there, waiting to be explored. For most people, events occur just the once, and then it's over. But not for me. Travel with me, and I can take you anywhere and everywhere. Any time, past, present, or future." His voice was firm, but threatening to burst with enthusiasm. The grin on his face betrayed just how much he loved his lifestyle, and delighted in sharing it with others. "All of time and all of space. Everything that ever happened, or ever will. Right outside those doors."

"Why us?" Charlotte demanded to know. "If what you're saying is true, and I still need to see it to believe it, you could pick anybody. Why us four in particular?"

"Do I need to have a reason?"

"Everybody always has a reason," she retorted with a cynical huff.

"Do I look like everybody?"

"Yes."

The curt response once again displayed their tenacity, one of the many qualities he was beginning to admire about the four women the longer he spent with them. He'd always made a point of only inviting the people to join him with the right qualities. Stubbornness, while often annoying, was one such crucial quality.

"Look, I didn't arrive there with the intention of asking you all to join me. I thought I'd just whiz in, save you innocent humans from the Krillitane and then just pop you back on Earth. Now, I can still do that, if that's what you want." His mouth then softened into a smile. "But you four showed me something. Intelligence, courage in the face of overwhelming fear, and initiative. All qualities that I value. You didn't need me to tell you that how to get out of that situation, you worked that out on your own." His voice then suddenly rose slightly in volume, as though praise deserved to be heard loud and clear. "And none of you could have pulled it off singlehandedly; it took all four of you to realise it. You were all intelligent enough to work it out on your own." He took a second to exhale and shake his head before continuing on. "Bezar might have taken you for his nefarious purposes, but he wasn't wrong about you four wanting to leave, was he?"

All four women shook their heads in confirmation. Becky wanted more thrills, more adrenaline than she could ever get on a film set. Charlotte wanted to get out there and explore life instead of focusing single-mindedly on her career. Sasha wanted new experiences, after having already travelled the world. And Bayley just wanted to help others. And she sensed that travelling space and time would fulfil that desire more than a single high school.

"You all want more out of life, and I'm just the alien to give it to you." He looked at them expectedly, waiting for a response. None came readily, the four women content to keep him waiting, still contemplating if they should trust the word of a relative stranger. This sounded too good to be true.

"Why should we trust you?" Sasha finally voiced, levelling him with a cynical stare, folding her arms for extra emphasis. "For all we know, you're just a madman with a box."

Full of surprises, the Doctor responded to the thinly veiled insult with a smirk. "There's something you've got to understand about me, because one day your life could depend on it. I am definitely a madman with a box."

The smiles and chuckles from each of the four in response – even Sasha - was all the confirmation he needed.

"So, Sasha Banks, Bayley Martinez, Becky Lynch, Charlotte Flair," he listed off all their names, leaving a pause as though he was about to ask the most important question in the whole universe. "All of time and space; where do you want to start?"

* * *

A/N: **Future of This** **Story**

The Good

I am very excited to announce that I plan on editing together a video trailer for this story! Wrestling and Doctor Who fans alike will see the characters they don't yet know in action, hopefully allowing them to be immersed further in the story. I don't know when I'll have it completed, as I still have to plot the rest of the story out and find suitable clips of the Four Horsewomen (easier said than done). But it is coming, I promise.

Although I have not yet determined exactly how many this story will have, I am structuring this story as a season of Doctor Who, with each chapter being an individual episode. There will be a season-long story arc, culminating in a season finale. I will be writing the entire season-worth of stories before I begin releasing them on a weekly basis.

Shortly before release, I will be uploading visual aids for the aliens and side-characters the Doctor and the Four Horsewomen will be encountering throughout the season (though understandably, I may decide to leave one or two out as a surprise).

The Bad

Unfortunately, I don't anticipate the season being released anytime soon at all. I don't want to put a specific timeframe on it, but I'm estimating it could potentially take up to a year. While that may seem ridiculous for a piece of fan fiction, I do want to take my time with this and get it right. But rest assured that when it is ready, you'll have a steady stream of content for perhaps three months straight. I am currently in the final months of my degree, and so I need to focus on that for the next few months before writing can become a priority.

But It's Not All Bad!

You can help speed this project up! I am currently in the beginning of my planning stage in plotting the season. I've been given a few ideas, but I'd love to hear any from YOU! Please, if you're a wrestling fan, please feel free to suggest a specific time period or sci-fi setting for a story to take place. If you're a Doctor Who fan, please feel free to suggest not only settings or plot ideas, but any of the Doctor's enemies or allies you'd like to see make an appearance. Please, if you have any kind of ideas, anything at all you'd like to see, don't be shy! Leave your ideas in the comments!

I am also seeking a co-writer! If this sounds like something you're interested in, please get in touch.

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you when this story returns!


End file.
